


Human error

by notyourown



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Emotional Sherlock, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Realisation, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:18:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyourown/pseuds/notyourown
Summary: Eurus knows something Sherlock doesn't.When he finds out, it is bound to change everything.





	

As the helicopter lands on firm ground, his feet hit the concrete. It is Sunday, after all. He picks up his pace, walking swiftly, leaving security and guns and the cold breath of November behind him. He enters the familiar surroundings, a raw smell of disinfectant overwhelming him. The elevator takes him to the room his sister was waiting at, speechless for months. When she hears him come in, her gaze shifts onto his pale, blue eyes and she smiles. He feels something he had always had trouble explaining, an affection of sorts, a fondness, like the world was in its place because he was there with his violin, ready to bare his soul in front of his sister.

He starts playing, a strong and intent melody. Seconds pass and she doesn't respond. She doesn't reach for her violin, just keeps watching at the strings producing a passionate melody, such a lovely tune, but so different than she is used to hearing her brother play.

He keeps playing, an intense crescendo evident. His hands are moving faster, pressing harder. By the time the composition reaches its culmination, Eurus is impressed and shocked and… smiling. She is smiling, Sherlock notices, and plays his final tones before his hands go back by his sides, the violin loose between his fingers. He smiles back at his sister, confused about this change of dynamics, but happy to see her respond differently. _That couldn't be a bad sign, can it?_ He stares at her for some time, thinking, not knowing what to do next. He bites his bottom lip before pulling up a chair and sitting on it. He takes a breath and speaks.

"Sister dear, anything you want to say to me?"

She just keeps smiling, the gesture now borderline creepy, but he looks deeper into her eyes and sees nothing but a sort of genuine, natural reaction.

"That impressed, are you?" He tries and she chuckles, but remains silent still.

"Fine, I'll talk." He begins and clears his throat before continuing. "I- We solved a case yesterday, it was a fun one. Someone kept randomly stealing socks all around Camden. Turns out it was a squirrel. Can you believe that?" He laughs. She smiles brighter. "I couldn't. John kept convincing me but I-"

"Say that again." She says suddenly, catching him by surprise. Happy to hear her speak, he tries his best to continue naturally.

"What?" he asks, but she says nothing. "John kept convincing me it was a squirrel?" he tries, his eyebrows rising questioningly. She nods her head.

"Tell me about him." She urges, her face expressionless.

"About John?" She nods. "Right, uh, you already have all the major information so I presume that's not what you're interested in. You probably want something extraordinary. Something a little more complex than everyday peripeties. Mhm." He pauses, thinking for a moment. "John is the type of person who knows far more than he is willing to admit. He doesn't take pride in his deductions, like we do, he feels guilty for making assumptions. He is the kind of person who can read every emotion on your face, no matter how brief it might have been displayed. He is also the kind of person never to say anything, not a word, about it, if he feels it would make you uncomfortable." He goes through all that, says it aloud for the first time in his life and doesn't realise he had been smiling a little the entire time. Eurus is smiling too and she makes a surprised, intrigued face when her brother finishes his monologue.

"He sounds rather beautiful." she just notes, her tone gentle.

"He- he is. He's much more than meets the eye." Sherlock barely manages to stutter. He shifts his look elsewhere, behind Eurus, as if he is looking through her.

"You know, brother mine, love might be a disadvantage and a human error, but denying it doesn't make it go away."

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Sherlock Holmes. You might be the idiot in the family, but you're more than capable of figuring this out. What is it, tell me, Sherlock, what sort of sorcery, that made it preferable killing your own brother over John Watson?"

"He- uh- he has a daughter." Sherlock responds, his forehead frowning, his sister's words hitting deeper than they are supposed to. _What is this? Why is she saying this? What is she saying, human error?_ Yes, he loves John. He also loves Rosie and Mrs Hudson and Molly and even that idiot, what's-his-name Lestrade. And Mycroft, he loves Mycroft in their own, strange, unhealthy way. And Eurus. He loves Eurus, he wouldn't be here if he didn't. So, what's her point, exactly?

"Yes, yes he does. And Mycroft has world peace relying solely on him." She states. "It was the daughter, of course, but it wasn't just the daughter. Tell me, Sherlock, have you ever felt the way you feel for him before?"

"Of course I-" He pauses to think. "Huh. No." He decides, surprising himself. Eurus doesn't look surprised at all.

"Go on, brother mine.You've wasted more than enough time being oblivious." She says, pointing the door with a nod of her head.

"No, I- I can't- He won't- He isn't- He doesn't-" He shakes his head sharply, trying to shake off confusion from his mind. Sherlock Holmes, the genious detective, so weak and human. What would Mycroft say? What is this? Why is he like this?

"Doesn't he?" Eurus just asks, her look reassuring him, calming him. "Listen to your sister, for once. I know love when I see it. I've been craving it my whole life, after all."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"John?" He enters their apartment and the familiar scent reaches him. Tea and baby powder and- John. _Was Eurus right? Was he, Sherlock Holmes, in-? God, that can't be it._

He doesn't need emotional entanglement to complete him as a person, as John had stated it. What does that even mean? What do people do in those- those- relationships, anyway? They just spend time together, talk about their feelings? How do you even do that? Then you, what, move in together? Have a child? Why would anyone- Wait. They are doing that already? He is living with a man he loves and they are raising a child together. If someone had told him this is where he'd be ten years ago, he would have laughed in their face. He couldn't stand the smell of human flesh at times, let alone constantly being around them, hanging out or whatever, talking about silly nonsense. Who does that?

He. He does that. He has been doing it for years now and he doesn't even mind.

Even more disturbing, he has been enjoying it. He doesn't know how he'd cope without the smell of baby powder and the softness of John's stupid, ugly jumpers against his fingers when he touches him. If John left, if they left, what would become of him? And why does he suddenly feel like he needs it, like he needs all of it, even Rosie crying at two in the morning, even John rambling about random news from the papers at seven in the morning? Why does he suddenly feel like it is all a part of him, like he'd be lost without it? Why does he suddenly feel the urge to take John's face in his hands gently, pull his chin up, lean down and share a breath?

And why is he so pathetic?

And where is John?

As if on cue, he hears the door open. It catches him off guard and he flinches and turns around abruptly. John is just standing there, as if everything is perfectly normal, as the world Sherlock knew hadn't just been rocked and shaken down to its core only to reveal-

"I love you." He blurts out in shock.

The man frowns. "Yeah, I know. I love you too."

He shakes his head. "No, John, I love you."

"Yeah, Sherlock, I heard you the first time and I'm saying I love you too." John smiles, laughs almost, as if this is all one big joke and he isn't-

He doesn't get it. He has no idea.

"No, John, I _love_ you."

The man frowns again, puzzled. "What are you trying to say, Sherlock? Because if this is another one of your-"

"I'm saying-" He cuts in, trying to find the words. Trying to put his thoughts together, trying to stay calm, trying to make the most of this moment because the next words that leave his mouth are going to be the ones to change everything, to bring an end to the only life he had ever known, in one way or another. He inhales steadily. "I'm saying you're stuck somewhere inside of me and I can't shake you off. I'm saying I smile when I talk about you and I'm saying everything I've composed in the past couple of years has had one connecting feature, you. I'm saying I lived for you when I had nothing else to live for. I'm saying you brought me back from the dead more than once and you made me see love is not a human error. Even if it is, I'm incapable of denying it to myself. Equally so, I'm unwilling. I'm saying I'm in love with you." he finishes, breathless.

 Silence creeps up on 221B and his eyes reach for the floor. The next thing he feels is strong, but gentle arms tugging at his beard and lifting it slightly to meet the gaze of the man across from him. The man is smiling slightly and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Took you long enough." The words reach him, but before he can react, his lips are pressed by sudden softness and he closes his eyes instinctively. He feels John's lips on his, trapping him, loving him, speaking words John could never word. He feels John's fingers on his cheeks, caressing tenderly, as if his cheeks are something precious, something to admire, something to behold. A moment later, John's lips are gone from his and he opens his eyes to witness the man looking directly at him, their foreheads touching, his fingers still on Sherlock's cheeks. "I love you, Sherlock. I have loved you ever since the first time you played that violin right here, by the window. I never stopped. I doubt I ever will. You bring out the fighter in me, you make me believe there are some things in life worth fighting for. Dying for. More importantly, living for. You made me want to live again." Sherlock feels his heart flutter at the words and he has to remind himself to breathe because this seems to be getting out of hand and he is Sherlock Holmes and he doesn't _do_ butterflies and he is a grown man and none of this is supposed to be inducing this kind of a reaction but-

But it is. It is making his heart overflow and his eyes water and he doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he puts his lips on John's, kissing him deeply, much deeper than he thought he needed.

Emotions are tricky, weird, messy. Emotions made him uncomfortable.

But John, John makes him want it, all of it.

John makes him need it, crave it.

John makes him human.


End file.
